I've gotten a pretty good run at the work today, and I still have some time before I have to pack things up to head into the City to dance, but I'm starting to get physically restless. I've been working at Coffeed, my favorite of the coffee cafes here in town, but I drove to the area from home instead of walking it, as I usually do: adjustments to allow for the maximum amount of work and still dance. I decided not to try the cafe options in Manhattan that I researched yesterday; I'm not sure why, as the transit time is the same whether I do it between work and dancing or before work, but somehow this felt more efficient. Maybe I was simply unconsciously smart enough to know I'd start hitting the wall at about this time of day, no matter where I am: this way I can travel when my mental acumen is starting to slip instead of being on the train during peak work times.
In any event, I don't have much to report. I'm just cranking away at the glossary and pronunciation guide, and sort of semi reading the novel as I go. I'm not reading with great attention at this point, and I'll certainly have to go back through more carefully when I get back to working on the essay about loyalty and betrayal.
And it's hitting me again just how big this project is, how much work I "have" to do, and how little time I have to do it in. Result: anxiety attack. Again.
Breathe, Prof. P, breathe. Deep, cleansing breaths.
I also realized I brought everything I needed for my work stint and everything I need for dance classes (tango and west-coast swing, if all goes as planned), but I didn't bring a "popcorn" book for the train rides to and from. So, I'm going to handle the "I'm restless" factor and the "I need something to read" factor at the same time: I'm going to close out this (for me) very brief post and trot off to the library before I have to trot to the train station.
OK, I won't trot. I'll simply walk with vigor and intention. Off I go.